


Before I Forget You

by bethylloverforever



Series: I'll Remember for You [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Daryl doesn't want to forget, Daryl is scared, I suck at tagging, M/M, Set in the future, So is Rick, Thanksgiving, Walkers no more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethylloverforever/pseuds/bethylloverforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Daryl's first Thanksgiving at their farmhouse in Georgia, many years after a cure was found. Carl, Judith and their families, who still live in Virginia, visit their parents to celebrate the holiday with Rick and Daryl. Except Carl notices something not quite right with Daryl. </p><p>This is a prequel to "I'll Remember For You."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Forget You

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, except my Dad is on my mind a lot since his Alzheimer's diagnosis, and I've discovered how therapeutic writing is for me.
> 
> Ages of our Grimes-Dixon family in this fic:  
> Rick: 72; Daryl 69; Carl & Enid 48; Lori Beth (Carl's daughter) 27; Ricky (Lori Beth's son) 5; Judith 34; Sarah (Judith's daughter) 14* Not mentioned: Jonathan, Judith's husband--Age not yet determined.
> 
> *Corrected Sarah's age in the fic (accidently had her age for "I'll Remember For You"

“Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” Carl asked Rick. “In private.”

“Sure,” Rick answered as he led Carl to the small downstairs bedroom he and Daryl converted to a den, away from the family currently in the living room.

“It’s about Pops,” Carl said. He sat down in the chair next to the bookshelf, not able to look at Rick.

“What about Daryl?” Rick said cautiously, knowing he was not going to like where this conversation was going; knowing Carl had seen what Rick had been trying to ignore the last few months. Rick sat down in the other chair close to the bookshelf and looked at Carl, waiting for his son to say what was on his mind. Carl was staring at the floor, leaning onto his knees with his elbows, hands clasped together like he was praying.

Carl sighed, looked up at Rick and asked him, “How long has Pops been having problems with his memory?”

Rick stiffened, knowing Carl was concerned for his other father, but Rick wanted to deny there was an unspoken ‘problem’ with Daryl. 

“What do you mean?”

“He keeps calling Lori Beth, Judith for one thing,” Carl replied.

Lori Beth is Carl and Enid’s 27 year old daughter. Carl, Judith, and their families flew down from Virginia to celebrate Rick and Daryl’s first Thanksgiving at their new home, a small farmhouse they bought in April outside of Senoia. Rick and Daryl wanted to retire in the state they first met and fell in love. 

“Lori Beth does resemble Judith,” Rick tried to argue with Carl. “There are so many names to remember now, and you know you even go through a list of names when calling someone,”

Carl sighed again and sat up. He ran his hands through his hair, probably a habit he picked up from Rick over the years.

“Dad…” 

Rick stood up and moved over to the window and looked out over the farm he and Daryl loved. He watched Daryl with their great-grandson, Lori Beth’s son Richard Daryl Grimes, now five. Ricky and Daryl were sitting on Daryl’s motorcycle, with Ricky in the front. Rick could just about hear the motorcycle noises being made by the child while he pretended to drive his Great Pop around. Rick smiled at the sight of his husband and great-grandson.

“Dad, please,” Carl pleaded with Rick. “Talk to me.”

Rick turned back to Carl, “What else concerns you about Daryl?”

“He’s called me by your name several times, he can’t remember the names of some things, he has left the stove turned on twice now, he got lost trying to drive into town yesterday, and he forgot how to load his crossbow.”

“We’re old, we’re supposed to forget things now and then,” Rick tried to joke with Carl, still not wanting to admit there might be something going on with Daryl.

Carl, angry now that Rick won’t listen to him got up and headed for the door. “When you’re ready to seriously talk about this, Dad, I’ll be around. But make it before Pops hurts himself, or someone he loves.” Carl slammed the door when he left.

Rick, still watching Ricky and Daryl, let the tears slide down his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dammit, Rick, I know what that thing is called!” Daryl shouted at Rick as he pointed to his crossbow that now hung over their mantel. Daryl had been telling a story of a time he had been trying to teach Rick how to use his crossbow (and probably led to them fooling around more than an actual lesson), and forgot what the weapon was called. Rick had quietly whispered the word to Daryl, which was what caused the angry outburst.

“I’m sorry, babe, I… I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” a shocked Rick said to his lover. Rick didn’t miss the look Carl and Judith exchanged.

“Stop treating me like a child!,” Daryl yelled at Rick again. “I’m goin’ for a walk.” he said as he grabbed his vest hung on the coat rack and stormed out of their house.

“Is Grandpop okay?” Lori Beth asked, the shock on her face at how her grandfather had responded.

“Yeah, he’ll be okay, babygirl,” this coming from her father, Carl. Carl looked up at his father, worry showing on the young man’s face. “Maybe you need to go look for him Dad. What if he headed into the woods?”

Rick reached for his coat and called over his shoulder, “I’ll find him.”

Rick didn’t have far to go. Daryl was standing on the porch, smoking a cigarette. Rick came up behind his hunter, wrapped his arms around his waist, buried his face into the back of the angel vest that had seen better days but Daryl continued to wear, and inhaled the scent of his man. As much as he couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke, he loved the smell of it on Daryl. 

“I’m sorry, babe, I just meant to help.” 

“I’m scared, Rick,” was Daryl’s reply

“Scared of what?” he asked his hunter.

“I’ve been forgettin' things. Important things. I couldn’t fuckin' remember how to use my crossbow the other day. I couldn’t remember who Ricky was yesterday until Carl reminded me. I got lost, Rick! Lost on the way to the damn fuckin’ town that is just down the road. If Carl hadn’t been with me…..” Rick felt Daryl’s shoulders start to shake and he knew his man was crying. Tearfully Daryl spoke again. “And I’m angry! So fuckin angry and embarrassed. Sometimes, I feel like all y’all are teasing me or making fun of me when I forget words. It makes me want to punch something. But I know y’all aren’t doing that.”

Rick didn’t know what to say to his man, so he just held him tighter. Daryl threw the cigarette down on the porch and put it out with his foot, then turned around to face Rick. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulders and buried his face into the crook of Rick’s neck. He felt Rick’s hand move up to his hair and gently start playing with his hair. Both men stood there for several minutes. Finally Rick spoke.

“Maybe it’s time to see a doctor.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and lifted his head up. He looked at his husband and saw the worry and concern in Rick’s eyes. Daryl leaned forward and captured Rick in a kiss. They broke from their kiss, and Daryl said to Rick “I’m tired. So tired of pretendin' there ain’t nothin’ wrong.”

Rick didn’t respond with words. Instead, he took his lover’s hand and lifted it to his mouth and kissed it, “Let’s go to bed baby. Let me hold you for awhile” and led Daryl to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl was up in the loft of the barn, listening to the horses below and lost in thought. He’d been up there since he, Rick, Carl, and Judith returned from the doctor’s office a couple of hours ago. He needed to be alone to process everything he had been told today. Alzheimer’s disease is what the doctor had told them, and she then proceeded to answer the questions Rick, Carl, and Judith had. That was when Daryl stopped listening. He knew enough about the disease to know he would eventually forget his family, how to feed himself, dress himself, and even forget how to go to the bathroom by himself. That one day he would be nothing but a shell walking around, not much better than a walker, except he hoped to God he wouldn’t be trying to eat people. Even though that thought tore him up, what he dreaded the most was forgetting his family, especially Rick.

They left the office with an appointment for him to see a neurologist and prescriptions for medication he was supposed to start taking. Daryl, the man that wouldn’t even take an aspirin for a headache, and still didn’t have to take medications for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or arthritis like Rick, now was expected to take these fucking pills every day. Hell, he was only sixty-fucking-nine years old. Rick was the “old man” at 72. 

This was how Rick found him sometime later. Sitting in the loft hugging his knees staring off into space. 

Rick had seen Daryl take off into the barn when they got back. Carl wanted to follow, but Rick had reminded him Daryl was one to always need time to alone to process changes. When Daryl hadn’t come out after close to three hours, Rick decided to go to him.

Rick slowly made his way up the ladder to the loft and cursed his aching joints every step of the way. He moved over to where Daryl was sitting and lowered himself next to his husband while groaning at the protest of his body. 

“Could hear you a mile away, old man, the way you pop and crack now.”

“You always have been able to hear me. Getting old ain’t changed that,” Rick replied to him with a small smile on his face, remembering all the times Daryl had complained at how Rick was never able to walk quietly through the forest, and if the dead wasn't already walking around he was sure Rick could raise 'em. 

Neither Rick nor Daryl said anything else for awhile. They just sat there next to each other in a comfortable silence. 

Finally, Rick broke the silence. “Since the kids fly back tomorrow, Sarah wanted to make dinner for us.” Sarah was Judith’s 14 year old daughter.”

Daryl gave a low chuckle, “That girl cooks as bad as you do.”

“Well, yeah, Judith is going to ‘supervise’ her,” Rick replied while making air quotes at the word supervise.

“Which mean Judith will be the one actually cookin’ tonight.” Daryl turned and grinned at Rick. “And it won’t be burnt.”

“Hey, I don’t burn every meal. Only when I get distracted by my sexy husband,” Rick chuckled, bumping shoulders with Daryl. He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips. “I just can’t get enough of you.” 

Daryl’s grin slowly left his face, and his expression became serious. “I love ya, Rick. I’m going to tell you that every day before I forget how.” Rick watched the tears slide down the hunter’s cheeks. Rick took his hunter into his arms and pulled him close, running his hands through Daryl’s hair. “I love you too.”

Daryl raised his head and looked at his husband. “I wanna show you how much I love you.” He raised up and kissed his husband, slowly laying him out on the floor of the loft. “I’m goin’ to show you how much I love you every chance I get, before I forget you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I did just very small amount of research, and I probably have set Daryl more at moderate than mild Alzheimer's, but still saying he's in the early stages for this story.
> 
> Not extremely happy with the ending, but feel it's the best I could do after playing with it most of the day.


End file.
